


something blue (and something red too)

by strifery



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Wedding Planner, Eventual Fluff, Keith and Shiro are Siblings, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, because in that case this story's gonna be slower than a snail with a limp, does hating each other for a while count as slow burn?, i didn't think that was an actual tag, i've never written slow burn before, if i decide to try adding smut later i'll change the rating, seems like a lot to type, wedding planner(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 10:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10717917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strifery/pseuds/strifery
Summary: "Here's how this is gonna work," Lance says, authority in his voice as he drops into a chair (Keith's), slings his laptop onto the desk (Keith's), and helps himself to a thick pad of blue sticky notes (also Keith's — the store didn't have red.) "I'm gonna plan Allura's wedding, and you're going to plan Shiro's.""There's just one problem with your plan, genius," he begins as Lance slides the purple folder across the table and towards his open laptop. "They're marrying each other."





	something blue (and something red too)

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah! welcome to the wedding planner au! i've been toying with this idea for a few months now, so i'm super excited to finally be posting it here for you guys! i'm hoping to make this sort of a slow burn fic if i can (i've never actually written one before??? so i guess we'll see how this goes) so be prepared for some of these chapters to hopefully get a little long! enjoy!

Keith owes his career to his brother. 

Yeah, sure, he'd had a nice little internship with an event planner, and he helped throw some pretty slammin' parties under her name despite dropping out of design school years earlier, but it was all so _boring_. After his fourth white-tiered, white-veiled, white-tabled wedding in a single week he nearly swore off taking bookings altogether.

There was nothing wrong with weddings — in fact, they were Keith's favorite part of his job — but his boss only allowed him to do _certain_ things in a _certain_ way to have very _certain_ results. In the end, he started to feel like every cookie-cutter wedding he planned took a little bit of his soul with every lifted veil and first slice of cake. It wasn't until Shiro showed up at the door of his apartment one morning, a cardboard coffee tray in one hand and a jingling set of gold-plated office keys in another ( _"Happy birthday, little brother!"_ ) did Keith realize how badly he needed a chance to break into the world of freelance work. 

So when Shiro walks into his studio one sunny afternoon with a stupidly large grin and an empty black box in his pocket, Keith doesn't even dream of turning him down. 

He also doesn't dream of sitting in a restaurant booth watching his coffee go cold as he avoids eye contact with the pair of unfamiliar blue irises boring into his skull. 

Shiro and Allura sit across from him and the newcomer: a tall, skinny guy about Keith's age who, judging from the way his lips pulled into a pout when he sat down, didn't like the fact that Keith was there at _all_. He takes a sip of his own drink — some half-caf, mocha-pumped, whipped cream-covered concoction that gave Keith a toothache just looking at it — and opens his mouth to speak, but Allura beats him to filling the silence. 

"Lance, I know you're not happy about this." 

"Damn, what gave it away?" the guy — _Lance,_ Keith remembers, the name sounding straight up medieval wrapped in Allura's heavy accent — retorts, crossing his arms and slumping against the vinyl bench. Allura simply rolls her eyes; Keith had only met his brother's girlfriend a few times prior to today, but he could already tell that she was immune to any argument her younger friend put up. 

"And I'm sure Keith feels similarly," she continues, ignoring him with all the grace habit can grant, "Being that he _is_ the professional here." Keith blinks as the conversation turns to him, and takes a long sip of his drink before speaking, cutting his eyes at his brother over the rim of his cup. 

"I mean, I wouldn't say I'm _unhappy_ , per se," he begins with a shrug as he sets his mug back down, his internal lie counter ticking itself up to one. Well, maybe it wasn't entirely a lie: he wasn't unhappy. He was _pissed_. Ever since he had first set up his studio, ever since he had even _began_ event planning, Shiro's wedding had been promised to Keith. That was the end-all-be-all of it. They were brothers, and there's some things between brothers that just weren't messed with: some families had fishing trips and hockey games. They just happened to prefer cake toppers and cutlery sets. 

Keith doesn't say this, though; he just runs a hand through his hair and fills in his truths with "I've just never really worked with a partner before." There's a quiet seething in his voice that he knows Shiro can pick up on, but the older of the two makes a point of looking away from him.

"Yeah, and I didn't really have any plans to either," Lance adds, sitting up straight and aiming a glare at Keith. "Can't you just pick one of us to do your wedding and be done with it?" 

"We wanted to give you both a chance," Shiro answers, talking more to Keith than Lance, "Allura's told me great things about the business parties you've planned for her and Coran, and I know firsthand that Keith's about as capable as it gets when it comes to things like this." 

"Yeah, but corporate parties aren't the same things as weddings," Keith counters, folding his arms and staring daggers at his brother. "There's a lot more at stake here." Beside him, Lance scoffs.

"Are you saying that you don't think I can handle planning a wedding?" Keith raises an eyebrow. 

"Weddings require a careful attention to detail and months of preparation in advance. No offense, but they're not really something you can pull off with a couple of white tablecloths and a platter of cocktail weenies." Lance's eyes narrow dangerously, and he vaguely registers a warning _"Keith."_ from his brother, but he pays it no mind. It was true, wasn't it? To him, the significance of one versus the other was about as similar as a pee-wee league trophy and an Olympic gold: sure, both are all well and good in their own right, but there would only be one you'd _remember_. 

Though from the look on Lance's face, telling him so wouldn't help much. 

"I'll have you know-!" he begins, but he's quickly cut off by Allura.

"I can assure you Keith, Lance knows what he's doing. I wouldn't ask you to work with anyone who didn't."

"And it's not like we're talking dollar store banners and balloon animals here, hotshot," Lance adds, his voice sharp, "Events have to be worthy of their venue, and in case you didn't know, for me, that's the ballroom at the _capitol_."

Keith rolls his eyes. "So you put out a cheese plate and some shrimp instead of a bowl of chips and a plate of your mom's brownies, big deal. What do you _really_ know about weddings?" 

"Enough to know that anyone who trusts their happily ever after to someone with your sparkling personality is a few rings short of a pillow!"

"...what?" Lance blinks at Keith's question, briefly snapping out of his fit. He looks to Allura for help, but is met with the same confusion, her head quirked slightly to one side. 

"Y-y'know, the little pillow? The one that the ring bearer brings the rings on? Ah forget it, it's already ruined." He folds his arms again and turns away from Keith, making a show of taking a long, dramatic sip of his coffee. Keith just sighs. He wants to plan his brother's wedding more than anything. How could he not? Keith lived for what he did, and even if he would've gotten to the point where he was without his brother's help, it sure as hell helped give him a boost. He just wants to show Shiro that he's made something out of his gift. 

He just isn't sure if he can do that with someone else weighing him down. 

"I'm not doing this," he says finally, looking up at his brother through his long bangs. Shiro's eyes widen in shock as he opens his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a breathy little "Keith..." as his younger brother digs around in his wallet for enough bills to pay for his drink. 

He slaps the money down onto the table and scoots out of the booth, just missing the way that Lance's gaze follows him as he passes through the restaurant and out the door. Shiro lets him get as far as the parking lot before muttering a quick apology to Allura, who waves it off as he kisses her cheek and darts after his brother, leaving her alone with her longtime friend.

"Huh," Lance begins, unfolding his long legs across the warm vinyl seat and arching his back into a stretch. "Looks like someone has a dramatic streak." Allura hums in response. 

"You of all people shouldn't be bothered by that," she quips, her voice teasing. Lance responds by sticking his tongue out at his former boss, turning his gaze to the window, and watching as Shiro jogs to catch up with a fuming Keith. 

"Actually, I think it might be the only thing I like about him."

\---

"Keith! _Keith!_ " Shiro calls out to the pissed off pair of skinny jeans currently stalking through the parking lot. Keith ignores him and keeps heading towards the bike rack, the shining red finish of his cruiser glinting in the sun. Shiro pauses for a second as Keith reaches the bike and starts fiddling with the lock. "Wait, you still have that thing?"

Keith whirls around then, squinting as his eyes fill with anger and sunlight. 

"Yes, Shiro," he hisses, spitting his name like a curse, "I do,because I promised you I would take care of it when you gave it to me, and some of us believe in keeping promises made to their brothers." He's managing to keep his voice level, which comes as a surprise to Shiro; he can picture several times where his baby brother wouldn't have hesitated to scream at him in a public space. Regardless, he sighs and runs a hand over his face.

"I'm  _sorry_ , Keith-"

"Ohohoho," Keith snorts, more out of rage than any actual amusement, "Don't you 'sorry' me. You know I hate 'sorry's, 'sorry's are nothing." Shiro can't help but roll his eyes. 

"Yeah, okay,  _my bad_ , I forgot that I can't talk to you the same way I talk to everyone else on the planet." Shiro takes a deep breath then, lets the frustration coiling in his chest unravel as he reclaims his place in the wrong. "I'll brush up on speaking Keith, I swear." Keith's frown softens a bit.

"You ought to, you're the only one that does," he mumbles as the bike lock comes loose with a metallic  _click_. He walks his bike backwards, and for a second, Shiro worries that Keith will ride off before he can make his case, but he stays put expectantly, drumming his gloved fingers against the handlebars. 

For a second, there's nothing but silence between them, two too-similar pairs of dark eyes swimming in the waves of July heat lifting off the pavement as they search for something to say. Unsurprisingly, Keith speaks first.

"Was it Allura?" 

"Was what?" Keith cocks his head towards the diner. 

"The whole Lance thing. I mean, I know they're friends or something but...did she not want me to plan her wedding?" Keith's drumming continues, the habit giving away his anxiety despite his nonchalance.

"What!?" Keith looks up at his brother's shocked tone. "Keith, no, it-it wasn't anything like that at all-"

"You can tell me, I wouldn't hate her."  _+1 for the lie counter._

"Yes you would, you once held a grudge on the ice cream man for a year because he drove off while you went to get money from mom."  _Damn, he got me. Is it really a lie if the subject can see right through it?_ "But even so, it doesn't matter, because it's not her fault anyway."

"But she picked Lance."

"Because I  _asked_ her to. Well, I mean, not Lance specifically, I hardly know the guy. But I asked her to tell me what she wanted for the wedding, and she picked him."

"Did you tell her about my work?"

"I didn't have to, she already knew; I brag about you all the time."

"But she still picked Lance."

"Correct."

" _Why?_ " At this, Shiro shrugged as if he couldn't elaborate on his own.  

"We're not the only ones who make promises, Keith." Keith lets out a childish groan and drops his head back, tilting his chin to the sky and shutting his eyes in the harsh sunlight. He had a feeling that that was the end of his brother's knowledge on the subject, and that frustrated him. Didn't he know that one of the rules of being the older sibling was that he had to know everything Keith didn't know himself? It's like one of those symbiotic relationships he learned about in middle school; together they were supposed to know everything, and that's that. 

"Do you want me to just ask her?" Keith considers it for a second, letting out a deep breath through his nose. 

"No, no, don't make it more awkward than it already is," he concedes. "It's her wedding, and she decided who she wanted to plan it, and that's the end of it."

"Keith, don't be like that. She wants you in on this too, we already told you that." Shiro runs a hand through his hair, the white strands glinting brightly in the light. He fidgets slightly, shifting his weight from foot to foot as if he's toying with a confession he'd rather not make. Watching him, a question pops into Keith's head, barreling past his swirling thoughts to sit at the forefront of his mind.

"Shiro," he begins curtly, and his brother's eyes snap up to meet his own. "Why did you let her pick Lance?" 

"I didn't  _let_ her do anything." Keith rolls his eyes.

"You know what I mean. You know what you promised me, you know that there were other things that you two could've compromised on for this wedding, but you chose not to make sure I was the sole wedding planner in charge of this.  _Why?!"_ Keith's voice swells to a yell at the end of his rant, and he finally begins to sound like the enraged little brother Shiro knows he's always been. He can't tell if he should be relieved by that. Either way, Shiro lets out a sigh and finally stands still. 

"Keith, you have to spend more time with other people." The hot wave of refusal that threatens to overflow from Keith's chest spills out of his mouth almost immediately.

"No." 

"Keith-"

"Shiro,  _no._ "

"Keith, listen to me," Shiro begins, a fatherly sternness beginning to creep into his voice, "You can't just isolate yourself from the rest of the world and convince yourself that you're doing fine."

"I  _am_ doingfine!" Keith yells again, his shout ringing off the cars surrounding them. "I have you!" His breathing begins to come in short, shallow puffs, and he feels like curling in on himself. The sun on his back suddenly feels too warm, too close to him from millions of miles away. His thoughts go absolutely crazy, darting from one extreme to another before he can grab them and shove them back down: _Why does he think I need other people in my life so badly?_ _Is he planning on leaving? Oh god, what if he leaves? He's getting married, Keith, he'll have bigger things to worry about than his baby brother. Married. Husband. Family. She probably wants kids. He's going to have kids. Kids need attention. He only has so much attention to give, Keith, and when it comes down to a choice between your brother and your baby, you're going to pick your baby. Married. Wife. Kids. A family that isn't you. Can you handle that?_

Keith's breathing faster now, and he can't remember crouching down, but he knows the feeling of pavement on his hands when it comes. His bike rattles as it falls behind him. A car pulls into the lot somewhere in the next aisle over. Shiro's hands are on his back, then his chest, then his chin, forcing Keith to look at him and the worry in his eyes. 

_...of course you can't._

Slowly, the blood pumping in Keith's ears begins to recede until he can hear his brother's voice again, now much softer than it had been a moment ago: "Stay with me buddy, stay with me. I'm right here. Are you right here with me? Where are you now?" It's a familiar question, the same one that got him through coming out at thirteen, the same one asked when his brother was nothing but a bloodied stump, a deep scar and the only other breathing member of their little family.  

"Keith," Shiro repeats, one of his hands making steady circular motions across his brother's back. "Are you here with me?"

Slowly, Keith nods, rocking back on the ground until he's sitting on concrete. He regrets it almost immediately; he can feel the searing burn of hot gravel through his thin jeans lighting up his legs as he rests his head on his knees.

"Yeah," he answers finally, and Shiro's soft sigh of relief loosens the rocky mass of tension bundling in Keith's chest. "I'm here." Shiro keeps his hand where it is, continuing his motions until he can feel Keith's back rise and fall with steady breaths. For a while it's just that between them: breathing and blinking sun spots out of their eyes while both of them consider their options. Again, Keith is first to speak:

"I'm doing a great job of convincing you that I'm a healthy independent adult, aren't I?" At that, Shiro sighs again, but the sound stutters as it leaves his nose, as if he's pushing back a laugh.

"What were you thinking?" he asks instead, standing and stretching his muscled arms behind his back. When Keith cocks his head in confusion, he nods his head towards his sitting figure. "Y'know, just now."  _Oh,_ Keith realizes, and he stands and picks up his bike. Is this really a conversation he's ready to have now? 

_I guess ready or not it has to happen._

Keith can barely take a breath to speak before the sound of approaching heels takes his focus, bringing with it the last voice he would ever want to hear in the middle of trying to calm his emotions:

"So, are you two done trying to die out here of heat stroke or what?" The lump in Keith's chest dissolves immediately, instead being replaced with a scalding curl of irritated heat that flares through his body at the sound of Lance's voice as he and Allura walk towards them. He watches as they approach, thankful that Allura at least has the grace to look tentatively at Shiro for an all-clear before reaching the two brothers. Lance, on the other hand, infuriates him more and more with every languid sneaker-footed step _(Seriously, blue Converse?)_ and quirk of his pretty brown mouth, everything about him too damn relaxed compared to his own-

Wait, did he just call Lance pretty? 

He scowls and turns his eyes to the ground, using one finger to flick at a pebble near his feet. He would blame the slip-up on the heat, but that would mean calling Lance right about the weather as well, and he doesn't think he can handle putting any more feathers in Lance's cap without having another meltdown.  _It doesn't matter,_ he tells himself as he gets to his feet, refusing to let the coffee-skinned man see him as anything close to emotionally affected by their situation.  _He doesn't know what you say inside your head, and it's not like you're going to say anything like that out loud, so he can just stand there with no proverbial feathers in his proverbial cap like the bitch he is._ _A featherless bitch._

Shiro offers his hand to his fiancé, who takes it and places a hand on his arm with a look of gentle concern that is instantly eased when Shiro gives her a soft smile. Keith watches them and lets out a quiet sigh through his nose. Maybe he wasn't lying when he said he wouldn't hate Allura earlier; while he's glad to know that she likes his work after all, even if she didn't, she's just too good for his brother for him to want to hold a grudge against her. Even if she did inadvertently shatter their most important promise. 

He pushes that thought from his head, though, and chooses instead to say to the happy couple, "You two really smile like you're everything right in each other's worlds." Allura blinks at the statement, her long eyelashes making her look surprised in the same way a Disney princess does: all soft beauty and femininity. 

"Keith, that's surprisingly sweet of you to say!" When Shiro nods in agreement, Keith raises an eyebrow.

"What, you guys don't think I can be romantic?" 

"No," everyone choruses automatically, and for a moment Keith wonders who to glare at first before he decides on Lance, who's side-eyeing him with a petty grin that makes him want to grab him by his slender neck.  _'Pretty mouth' my ass._ Seeing his offense, Allura quickly backtracks.

"I mean, not to imply that you  _can't_ be romantic, per se, I just figured you'd be more..." she trails off, scrunching her lips to one side as if she were working her last word around in her mouth. "... _upset_ with us. So to walk outside to check on you two and receive such a kind compliment was just a surprise." At Keith's side, Lance scoffs. 

"Understatement of the century," he mumbles, not really attempting to keep his voice quiet enough to hide his comment. Keith narrows his eyes in his direction, but ignores him in the end, instead turning to his brother. 

"Well? Do you have anything to say?" This time, it's Shiro's turn to scoff. 

"You should know by now that you're never going to be the person that pops into my head when I think 'romantic'." 

"Gross, I hope not," he teases in return, which earns him an attempted punch that he just manages to dodge. Allura laughs, and for a moment, the mood is light for the first time that morning. That is, of course, until Lance folds his arms and turns his attention to Keith, pursing his lips in disdain.

"So are you, like, dropping out of the wedding or what?" he asks curtly, examining his nails and ignoring Allura's chiding cry of _"Lance!"._ "Because if you are, I kinda wanna get started soon, so..." He trails off, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air like a bubble of tension. Keith isn't having any of it, and gives the taller man a sneer like he's about to personally invite Lance to lick the crack of his ass. 

"I'm not  _dropping out_ of anything," he hisses, and Lance rolls his eyes. 

"Dropping out, bailing, giving up, whatever you want to call it, it doesn't matter," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand before cutting his eyes at Keith, their matched glowers lighting Keith's nerves with animosity like a switchboard. "Just tell us: are you in or not?" 

Keith spares a glance at Shiro and Allura, who, though obviously unhappy about the hostile atmosphere between the two boys, seem just as interested in Keith's answer. For a split second, he meets Shiro's eyes, and the unspoken plea there catches him briefly off guard.  _He doesn't want me to give it up,_ Keith realizes, and he thinks back to his brother's words from earlier:  _"You can't just isolate yourself from the rest of the world and convince yourself that you're doing fine."_

Okay,  _fine._ So maybe Shiro's wedding wouldn't be his to give...at least not the way he had planned. And okay, yeah, maybe he didn't have the best reaction to his plans being thrown off course — he's a professional organizer, what do they expect of him?  _Probably some flexibility and self-control,_ Keith's conscience chimes in, but he shoves the thought down. The long and short of his goal in the first place was to do something for Shiro, and if Shiro wants him to get out more (or if he wanted to put it in their father's terms, "broaden his horizons") and seems to think that dual-organizing his wedding with an assholic stranger will somehow help him do that, wouldn't that cover that base? I mean, it's a base he wants to cover about as much as he wants a tooth pulled, but hey, it's for Shiro, right?

 _Plus,_  Keith thinks, trying to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching into a smile,  _I can cash this in later for one hell of a favor. 'Hey, dude, remember when you forced me to collab with that asshole Lance on your wedding? Yeah, thought so, can you cover this dinner for me?' ...wait, that's lame as hell. I can think of something way better than just a dinner._

Keith looks back at Lance and his challenging eyes and meets them with a renowned fire as he spits his promise:

"I'm in." For a second he lets himself smirk, reveling in the spark of surprise that lights in Lance's eyes before adding, "If nothing else to make sure that my brother's wedding isn't left in the hands of a dick like you." Lance's eyes narrow slightly, but he lets the comment roll off his back, instead putting on the same unflappable expression he had before.

"Alright," he begins, casually throwing his hands behind his head, "Good to see that you at least have enough balls not to disappoint your brother." There's something almost like respect in Lance's tone as he speaks, but before Keith can dwell on it too much, Allura delivers a swift hit to the back of her friend's head, her hand nothing but a dark, manicured blur as Lance winces in pain. 

"What he  _means_ _to say_ ," she says to Keith, growling the last few words in Lance's direction, "Is thank you, Keith, for being willing to take on a partner on such a personal assignment." The way she speaks makes Keith feel like he's just been issued a mission of galactic importance, and he's reminded of all the  _Star Trek_ episodes he and Shiro used to stay up late watching as kids. 

 _Oh my god,_ he thinks as he watches Allura bounce between lecturing Lance on rudeness and staring lovingly at Shiro,  _I can't believe my brother's marrying Lt. Uhura._

When he meets his brother's eyes, Shiro smiles proudly, but he's met with only an exasperated stare in return.

"You owe me big time, you know." Shiro rolls his eyes.

"I know, I know, just tell me what I owe you when I owe you, okay?" Keith nods and saddles onto his bike, releasing the kickstand and angling his chin towards Lance. "Are you coming or what?" Lance looks from Keith to the bike as if he's noticing it for the first time.

" _That's_ your ride?" 

"Do you see a car, genius?" Lance squints at the cruiser, trailing his eyes from Keith's gloved hands on the handlebars to the sliver of space on the seat he assumes Keith has left for him. 

"...where exactly are we going from here?" Keith rolls his eyes and scoffs.

"What, are you worried that some of your douchey friends might see you sharing a bike with a guy?" 

" _No,_ " Lance answers, responding quicker than Keith thought he would. "I just wanna know where we're going!"

"My studio."

"How far is it?"

"Just a couple blocks away, it won't even take twenty minutes to get there." Lance continues to stare at the bike for a few more seconds before looking at Allura, who's barely hiding a teasing grin behind her hand. Shiro, on the other hand, openly smirks at his brother, clearly reveling in the discomfort of the situation. Lance finally lets out a groan and shifts the strap of his bag on his shoulder. _Has he always had that messenger bag?_ Keith wonders, but he doesn't dwell much on it since his own laptop bag rests on his hip, the black material not doing much to help him in the summer heat. 

Wordlessly, Lance mounts the back of the bike, his long legs sticking out as he sits in an awkward sort of side-saddle imitation. Another moment of silence passes before Keith says, "Well? Are you gonna hold on or are you fine with tasting pavement?"

Lance frowns at him and shifts his bag again before slowly lifting his arms to hang onto Keith's shoulders, his hands barely gripping onto him at all. Keith doesn't bother telling him to adjust his grip; if he fell, he fell, and it would honestly make his day at least 10% brighter to see that happen in the first place, so why bother with warnings?

Before he can pull off, however, the telltale snap of shutters grabs his attention, and he whips his head towards his brother, who's aiming his phone at the two of them with a snicker on his lips. As Keith and Lance's faces pass through different stages of realization and subsequent rage, he snaps a few more pictures before handing the phone to Allura, who giddily begins to swipe through them.

"You can't be serious!" Lance screeches, his voice mingling with Keith's unamused, "Grow up." Shiro and Allura dissolve into a fit of childlike giggles at the complaints.

"Hey, hey, we're just prepping for the wedding album!" Shiro counters, holding one hand up in defense. "You can never have too many memories." At that, both Keith and Lance's faces fall flat as they turn to each other, the eye contact making their scowls even deeper before they turn back to their traitorous friends. 

"Assholes," they deadpan in unison before Keith kicks off, biking out of the lot as Lance flips off a laughing Allura. He ignores his brother's goodbye and pedals down the block in the direction of the looming downtown skyscrapers, wincing when he feels Lance's nails begin to dig into his shoulder, leaving tiny pink crescents in the sensitive skin there. Keith sighs. He can already tell that this is going to be one of the longest projects of his career, and one burning thought swims to the forefront of his mind, bypassing color swatches and growing to-do lists and daydreams of Lance's face slamming into the sidewalk: 

_Thanks, Shiro._


End file.
